Scarlet for Shame
by The Gift Of Fear
Summary: Harper killed her best friend, Rand. People know it was through self-defence. But, people don't really know what happened, including Harper herself. She may have gotten herself out of a prison sentence, but people don't believe her delusions. Wanting to deal with this, the authorities, along with her parents, see it fit to send her to Mount Massive asylum.
1. Chapter 1

My father hid the gun.

Looking back on it, it had to be one of the first signs. The second sign probably came a few nights ago, when I found my door locked in the middle of the night. I guess I never really thought much of it, though I'm pretty sure it was still there, in my sub-conscious. And the third sign, well, it was less of a sign and more of an actual event. A man from the local police station was sat in my kitchen.

The room was silent, spare for the noise of a boiling kettle, but nothing felt out-of-place. It felt normal. When I slowly crept through the door, all hope drained out from my face. Photos, labelled with arrows. A stack of official looking papers. I recognised the symbol from the incident. Scarlet and white with the flag of our country pasted on top. The Union Jack.

Scarlet meant the bond of brothers. The bond created through blood. No matter what people say to try and convince me, scarlet isn't the colour of blood, no matter what shade it appears in. And despite what a lawyer once told me to believe, it isn't the colour of betrayal either.

Her blood had stained the garden fences a vibrant rose-red. And as I watched Rand flop to the ground, landing of the soft, green grass, the colour I felt was a deep scarlet.

Scarlet for shame.

I closed the door, and tiptoed across the cold, marble floor whilst curling my toes. The kettle beside me started to reach its peak in the amount of noise it could make, screeching away. It was the weekend so both of my parents were home, making the room feel suddenly far more claustrophobic. The heat from the kettle was starting to make the room hot. Too hot. If only I could open a window.

But we didn't open the windows any more.

I walked towards the table where the police man and my parents were busy ignoring me. Dad was talking in a hushed tone, and Mum had her hands resting on her pen, letting the ink spread through the paper, and onto the table surface below, seeping like blood. I cleared my throat.

"You're sending me to Mount Massive," I tried to phrase it as a statement, but it came out as more of a question.

Mum clumsily put the lid back on the pen and frowned at the ink-stained paper, confused as to how it must have gotten there. Mumbling to herself, she got up, chair scraping against the marble floor, and left the room with no further words. None directed to us, anyway.

The police man spoke next. "Harper, you're incredibly lucky. Mount Massive is very reclusive in selecting it's patients, I mean, uh, clients. But given your circumstances," he says nodding towards me, before turning to face Dad. "and her mental ability and capacity, they were willing to make an exception for her."

"What circumstances?" I asked, but nobody responded. I assume it would have been interesting though. ' _We have a slight problem, being that our daughter recently killed a person, more specifically her best friend, in our garden, and people around here are none to pleased to hear that, you see_.'

The police man could have changed that sentence in any way he'd have liked. Dad could've, Mum could've, anyone could've. It would still end with me holding a bloody gun, and Rand bleeding out on the dirt.

Dad stood up, opening a cupboard to fetch coffee cups, setting them down on the side, roughly. "Dad?" I asked. Mum had tried to send me there a few years ago, without the permission of Dad. I had always been the 'foreign body' within the household. Dad got the phone call from the asylum requesting a meeting. It didn't go all too well.

"Over my dead body," I remember him mention back then.

Now he was simply ignoring me. He poured the coffee into the cups without looking in my direction. He took a deep breath, his hands shaking. "It'll be good for you," he said the the kettle.

Two years ago, my Dad had lied. According to him, it would have to be over his body. Apparently, any dead body would do.

I walked back upstairs, taking the steps two at a time, and collapsed on my bed and pulled out my phone. I punched Amanda's number into the screen, and pressed it against my ear, listening to it ring. It went straight to voice mail. Amanda only recently made her way into my life, rather forcefully. I had learnt she was always getting grounded.

She usually got a weekend stuck inside for sneaking out during the night. She was once sentenced for three days for going out with a boy after curfew, but it was during the middle of the week. One time she lugged her parents supply of beer to the park, and when the police showed up she got a full two weeks under house arrest. Not nearly as long as this time though.

It was going on five weeks now, maybe six. Such a waste for one tinny thing. A tiny lie. I wasn't going to be charged, no matter what she said. Not prison wise, anyway. That's what the lawyer had said.

It was a couple of weeks ago, when we still had the hunting rifle in the shed, and my door was still left unlocked at night. Ryan Sinclare or Sanclaire. Something like that. He looked like he'd been in a tanning bed for four hours too long with slicked back blonde hair, with bleached white teeth. Fortunately, he happened to be as sleazy as he looked.

"Harper Hope," he had said, looking me up and down, eyes sparkling. " Quite the name."

"Yeah, so is Rand." I remember mumbling, picking the sleeve of my jump. I stopped, looking up at his face, and his unnaturally tanned skin. He had never really spoken to me before. It was always a whisper, and a thumb jutting towards me. And yet, here he was. Smiling at me. Talking to me. I had sensed it as soon as he opened his mouth that day. So had my parents, and they started to lean forwards in their seats, wanting to hear more on the matter.

"It's over."

"What happened?" I had asked, standing as still as possible.

Ryan waved his arms towards the patio that led out towards the garden. His eyes looked at me, though this time I doubt they were trying to check me out. He was indicating to the marks scattering my neck and forearms. "Based on all the evidence they found," he said, this time pointing to my arms " the prosecutors are satisfied with your choice." He finally looked back up.

I cast a sideways glance at my parents, but they were looking towards the garden. "The victim was committing a felony," Ryan continued. "and so, the homicide is justifiable."

I remember Dad saying things like 'that's great' or 'amazing' but you could tell she wasn't really paying any attention any more. I, however, squeezed my eyes shut so I wouldn't sneak a glance at the garden through the window. I didn't do much. I could still see it. The fence, still stained red, though much less colourful. The shed door looked tight with a padlock. The hunting rifle now taken away by Dad.

I shivered at the memory and grabbed an orange from the fruit bowl and took it up to my room. I started to pack a suitcase, not sure if I'll be needing it where I'm going. Mount Massive was for the crazy. The insane. The damaged. And all because of that night, I fell under all of those categories.

I was sucked down into my mattress, my body slow and sluggish. I closed my eyes tight. I kept the duvet pulled up to my chin, as if that would stop me seeing it.

That white outline.

He was coming closer. Creeping in slowly and steadily. I could no longer keep my eyes open any longer, and yet sleep seemed far from real at that moment. I didn't want to be awake. He was here.

That white outline.

My whole room was pulsating with it, the vision crawling around the walls of my room. Then I fell into the dream I'd had every night since Rand died.

Her brown eyes would fill with confusion. Her raspy voice pleading with me. "I'm sorry," she would cry. The words dying on her mouth as she bleed away, he blood staining my hands. My shirt. My trousers. The fence.

I thought she had betrayed me.

Looking back on it, it that had to the first sign. The second sign was the hallucinations. I guess I really should have thought much more of it, though I'm pretty sure it was still there, in my sub-conscious. And the third sign, well, it was less of a sign and more of an actual event. I was going to Mount Massive.

**Hi! I'm pretty new to this, so don't judge me too harshly. :'3**

**Anyway, I really enjoyed both the main game AND the DLC for Outlast, which, as you may be able to tell, inspired me to write this really bad chapter one to this story. This is my first story on FanFiction, and so clearly my first on Outlast. I hope you enjoy it, and that it is decent enough for you to actually read it.**

**I'm hoping for at least three reviews before I post the next chapter? If you can manage it. Constructive criticism is always wanted, but please try not to hate on me too much. As I said, I'm new to this game.**

**Thank you all!**

**The Gift Of Fear.**


	2. Chapter 2

I could hear voices coming from downstairs. Familiar, yet new. It took me a few minutes to place them. The brand new tightness in Dad's voice, the way all of his words seemed forced out of his throat. And then Mum, who happened to speak far too deliberately, like all her words had to be thought out before she spoke them.

I swung my legs out of bed, and stood up using the wall to steady myself. Then I crept into the corridor, halting at the top of the stairs. Waiting. Listening.

"Call the police, May."

"And tell them what? We can't prove anything."

"She's supposed to stay over three hundred yards away from her. That's what the whole point of a restraining order is."

"You can't know for sure it was her."

Oh. Her. The word was stuck at the tip of my tongue, and to be honest, I didn't like it. I gripped the stair rail tightly and ran downstairs, feeling the wooden grains prick at my skin. I then stood at the entrance to the kitchen with the patio doors left open, looking into the garden. The garden fence now stained a slightly faded red. Near the edges blood was smeared out in lines as if dragged by fingers.

Both of my parents noticed me hovering in the doorway and Mum moved her body to block my view of the garden fence, not wanting me to notice my mistake.

"It's okay, Harper. She's gone now." Dad said. "It's okay."

But I already knew it wasn't okay.

I'd obviously met Rand's mother before. Only a couple of times. She never really liked me too much. Well, I think she liked me at first, but then after she believed I was a bad influence she stopped. I had met Rand at an after school detention when we were both younger. That's where I had met her friends Georgia and Deja too. I think they liked me at first too. I think they liked me up until the day I killed Rand.

We spent the hour in detention. Or, well we didn't. Turned out the teacher only turned up for the first ten minutes. He only wanted to lecture us and then keep us in a room to think about what we had done. Which, for the record, was totally not my fault.

"Is she coming with us?" Deja had asked when we all left the classroom, finally able to breathe again. Deja and Georgia both had this intense stare that made you feel impossibly small. They were sisters and you could clearly tell them apart. Georgia was taller. Deja was smaller. Easy.

And with that, Rand led me to her house. At the time I thought maybe it meant something but it probably only meant that she needed company, and I was her willing volunteer.

I guess Rand's house was more like Amanda's. Large, open and very white. The whole house echoed. I could hear the blender through the hallway and it grinded down to silence. "Is that you Lauren?" Someone shouted from down the hall.

"Yep."

She walked towards the kitchen, dragging me along behind her. Rand's mother was scooping a bunch of berries into the top of a blender. She was a brunette and kind of thin, probably even been pretty when she was younger. But now she looked too frail, with slathered on foundation on much too thick which showed the wrinkles on her face. She went over to give Rand a hug, but kept her hands out of the way. "Careful," she spoke sternly. "It'll stain your uniform." Her palms were a mix of colors, including red.

Red for blood.

"And who is this?"

"Harper." I said.

"Harper, I'm Sue. It's nice to meet you. Would you like a smoothie?"

I started to explain in some long winded paragraph of how I didn't want a smoothie, but Rand spoke up for me. "No, it's okay. We're going out in a sec."

Rand reached into the pack of extra berries and pulled out a few, shoving them into her mouth. Her fingertips were stained a swirl of purple. Her mother shook her head softly. I remember she mentioned something about not letting her touch me with her fingers, but I had zoned out. I swiftly folded my arms across my stomach, dragging my tie and the rest of my head lower.

Rand had just smiled at me, put her hand into the pack of berries, and her hand came out even more covered in a thick layer of juice. She walked towards me, throwing her head back and laughing. I think her mother might've said something but soon she turned around.

She backed me into a wall, still laughing. I remember her trying to give me words of reassurance but her laugh covered most of the words. She placed her hand on my arms, un-crossing them, and then pressing her whole hand against my stomach, leaving her mark.

Sue, I think, was trying to pretend that we weren't there and had the blender on, trying to create as much noise as possible to resolve the tension. I took my time in walking to the sink, wary of Rand's mother, and squeezed berries into my palm and then planted my hand on the side of her arm, letting the red juice seep through the thin cotton school shirt.

"You've tattooed me!" She giggled. She had grabbed my shirt and yanked it towards her, pulling me. I tried to pull away, because her mother could hear us. She could see us. And my shirt was now officially ruined. "I'm yours now." She giggled some more.

Somewhere between the little moment me and Rand had, someone must've rang the doorbell and now let themselves in. As we were washing our hands, stood side by side, and far too close.

"Harper, this is Billy. He's Rand's friend." I turned around to stare at the figure in the doorway. He was older than me, by about two years. And I was sure.

"Yeah," I paused, looking him up and down. "I know who it is. I'm just trying to figure out why my cousin is in your kitchen." Rand took one quick look at me and raised one of her eyebrows.

"Your cousin?" Sue looked between us, maybe trying to figure out our similar features, though I doubt we actually had any. Billy didn't have auburn hair. I did.

I looked down at the floor, but I wasn't avoiding her question. I was trying to avoid the look Billy was giving me. We hadn't seen or spoken to each other since his father's funeral a couple of years back. And now here we were, fourteen (or in his case sixteen) years old, staring at each other with judging eyes. He had changed. Maybe it was for the best.

"I didn't realize you guys were related." Rand said, not turning around from her position by the sink, splashing about in the soapy water.

"Yeah, just a little." Billy's voice had cracked and his eyes had yet to move from my face. The tension was high enough as it was. It was the first lie he had said and the others came just as easy.

"Mhm." I had mumbled.

Rand had waved her mother goodbye and dragged me down the hall, Billy tailing behind. When I said good-bye however, her lips formed a thin line and her eyebrows furrowed. I think, even from then, she could tell I would do something wrong.

And yeah, I'll admit she was right. Because just a little over five months later after I had marked Rand as my own, she was dead.

And I was caught red handed.

We used to leave the kitchen door open in the Summer, when it was hot. Dad used to always love the outside and when he couldn't be there he would open the door and say, "You have to let the outside become the new inside." But Mum would stand in the doorway and complain about letting the bugs inside the house. She always used ten times the force needed just to kill them.

But now they were both terrified to open the door. Or any door. Open windows, anything of the sort. Mum was even afraid of what lay beyond unlocked doors.

My parents had both changed dramatically over the past few months. One would always stare off into the distance, and one would always be fretting about the house. Dad especially had a habit of locking doors just to unlock them moments later. He did the same when checking windrows.

One night I had stayed up late, waiting for Dad to come upstairs to bed. When he came up I touched his upper arm so hewas aware of me. He flinched. I drew back my arm. We had locked eyes, if only for a split second, before he lowered them. "Good night, Harp." He then backed into his own room and turned his lock. Love can be a funny thing.

So, I shut my door and turned my own lock.

"I'm scared." Was the first honest thing I'd said to Mum in months. She had stayed silent, staring off into space again. My vision felt blurred as she reached for the car keys and ushered me out of the door.

And we left.

I didn't bother to leave a note behind for Dad. I didn't call Amanda. I didn't tell Sue. I told no one. I just took one quick glance at the fence in the garden and left. And that was that.

At the gate to Mount Massive, the guard on duty was trying to convince Mum she couldn't go in. Women were forbidden, and I was the exception. It felt like I had floated out of the car and passed through the security, a man buzzing away by my side. I turned around to look at Mum, and just like Sue, her lips were formed into a thin line.

I don't remember much walking into the asylum. The doors were swung open, I can remember that much. I'm sure people were nice to me too. My bags were taken up into my room and the man at the front desk was telling me about what they were going to do. I didn't care. I wasn't listening. Because he was here. He was closer. He was coming to get me.

And the words 'morphogenic' on a file with my name, stood out the most.

**Hello again!**

**I'm baaaack. Sorry for the ridiculously long wait this time. I was sorting out getting a beta reader; which I finally found. Her name is ms. neko chan and she's been really great so far. I thank you now. You're awesome, and I applaud you for putting up with me.**

**Also, I had an anonymous reviewer ask me if there was to be any more of this story. And there is, and will be. I'm just a little slow at updating and writing because I'm swamped with school work and other such things. So thank you all for waiting for me while I sort things out. I'll start with the next chapter soon. Whenever I get the chance too, anyway. **

**Thanks again guys! I love you!**


	3. Chapter 3

Having a relative inside Mount Massive had its perks, especially because that person happened to be their new pet project. It made everyone treat me much better than they should have. Everyone except the patients, I think they_ might_ hate me because of it.

The door creaked loudly as I yanked it open. Thankfully, until my 'treatment' was in action I had free roam of the place. Well, most of it. Some of the doors were restricted to certain workers and even doctors. Only higher ups could go through those doors and I'm assuming I don't count as one of those. It was only my first day here too. I had the rest of the time to explore all the locked doors.

"Harley, right?" The man paused, but not long enough for me to reply and tell him that wasn't my name. "You need to head back to the female ward." He didn't even look up from his computer screen, just nodded towards the general direction but downwards. I did a quick sweep of the administration block before turning back to him.

"Down in the basement?" I asked.

This made him look up to meet my gaze. He pulled his lips into a hideous sneer, "Well lookie here, a funny one." And then he turned away to continue typing.

I dragged my feet back the way I came, making my way back into the female ward. It was pretty run down but they seemed to have done up at least some of it for me. I had my room and a lounge with a TV and pool table. Dad taught me how to play pool but he didn't teach me how to play with only one person. No matter how much you like something it gets pretty boring with just yourself. Trust me.

Pushing the thick wooden door open I find myself in the bedroom. When I first saw this room I thought it was some sort of strange joke. All it has is a bed and an end table with a lamp hurriedly slapped on top. "If you need anything don't hesitate to ask me or any of the other staff." Yet after the doctor said this he slammed the door in my face, leaving me trapped.

Even though the doctor had talked about asking the other members of staff for help if I needed any I never actually saw any in the female ward. The only other thing close to a human being on this wing was this big broad-leafed plant in the hallway, leading into the lounge. I'm so desperately missing Amanda, I'm tempted to name the plant just that.

I flung open the curtains and tried to stare out at the trees but my vision was blocked by thick, metal bars. It was pretty dark out, even if it was still daytime. I tried flicking the switch to turn the lamp on but it only let out an orange dim. My fingers drummed against the windowsill, wishing for something to happen. Anything.

And of course, nothing did.

I left my place by the window and made my way over towards the big oak door. My footsteps were silent on the coarse carpet, but they stopped when I saw a shadow on the other side of the door, making the room even darker than it usually was. There was a jingling of keys and a small click. I made my way over to the door, twisting the handle. It didn't do anything but make a creaking noise of metal on wood. I heard the footsteps walk away, the mysterious man's shoes squeaking against the floor. I tried harder to open the door and it took me a second to realize what he had just done.

I was locked in.

Why? I really have no idea. How could they have possibly known I was going to go out exploring all those locked doors? Maybe that man in the administration block told them I was out. Still, what reason did they have for locking me in my boring room? I took a seat on my bed and it sank under my weight. This place was turning more into a prison every time I thought about it.

I honestly don't know how I had missed this earlier, it seems a bit stupid now, but there was a file about four or five pieces of paper thick lying on the pillow of the bed. I picked it up and began to examine the slightly yellowing paper. Flicking through I discovered most of might as well have been in Russian. I didn't understand any of these medical terms. Was the file even for me? The only real thing I understood was 'Billy'.

Billy. Billy Hope.

I knew him. We'd only really met a couple of times, not for very long either. He was nice enough I guess. Well, he seemed nice enough from the small moments we'd met each other. He also happened to be Rand's friend. And my cousin. It's a small world isn't it?

'Morphognic activity observed at an unprecedented scale.' What the heck does that even mean? Whatever it is, apparently the doctors find it 'highly worrisome'. Another thing I understand is that he was asking about his mother. Aunt Gemma died of cardiac arrest a while ago. I remember Dad saying something along those lines, after he'd just got off the phone with Billy's dad. I flip over the page again to reveal a conversation between what looks like two of the staff here. And (surprise) it's about Billy.

"Heya Cindy-

Another "interesting" conversation with Billy this morning. He says he's been talking to Dr. Wernicke again for his therapy "in the white place." I'm disturbed by the fact his delusions have only gotten worse with medication (which isn't in the literature for benzodiazepine).

In any case, his dead doctor friend is filling his head with German folklore. Apparently the only thing that can kill the Walrider are vampiric butterflies vomited from a demon called "Horerczy." The butterflies suck the breath from people's lips and drink blood from their nipples. They can also take the form of emaciated upright pigs or sick dogs. So Billy's got that going for him.

You'd mentioned Billy talking about his mother's tattoos before, are any of them by chance tattoos of butterflies? Next time I get outside of the Murkoff firewall I'm going to look online and see if there's any actual basis in German folklore or if Billy's making this garbage up from whole cloth. Would love to compare notes sometime. Wouldn't mind doing it over a glass of wine. Gets lonely up here on Two.

Kurt."

All this is making my brain hurt. I knew that Billy had a bad case of PTSD (and don't ask me why; Dad wouldn't tell me) but apparently there was something else too. I didn't really understand any of this and I'm sure if I asked about this the papers would be taken away from me. Am I even meant to have this?

After setting it back down I've decided that a doctor wouldn't be the one to give this to me. They wouldn't want to scare me, especially seeing that this is my cousin. A member of staff that works with the patients wouldn't give this to me either. I doubt they'd even have access to this kind of creepy stuff, let alone be able to get into my room. Maybe it was someone who works in the building, but no one important. A caretaker? Cleaner? No. They'd have to be able to get a hold of this stuff. None of those people would. I'm sure they're just as shut out as I feel.

It's then when I noticed a little note scribbled on the plain front sheet. It was signed. Oh, so the person had a little common sense. Nice to know that somebody does in this place. The note simply said, 'From Waylon Park, Consulting Contract 8208.' I take it back. That was pretty useless. But, it did give me a name. I know I won't be able to ask anyone about it, they'd just ask where I got the name from. I'd have to find out myself, but for now, I was locked in my room.

Easier said than done.

**Hello again!**

**Yeah, this chapter is pretty short, and I'm sorry about that. It's basically trying to clear up a few things you ****_may _****have been confused about, and hopefully add to the storyline a little. I think I know where it's going to go. I have an idea, but it will most likely go the other way.**

**I want to thank ms. neko chan again for betaing for me, you're awesome. And also to Noxana who left a super sweet review for me, and it really made my day. It also reminded me that instead of focusing on my GCSE's, I should actually be writing this, so thanks again.**

**Until next time or when ever I remember I'm writing a FanFiction again!**


	4. Chapter 4

I could hear the loud ringing from my room. A few seconds later, I heard it again. Amanda? I placed my hand on the door knob, and twisted; thankfully it was open. I almost skipped out of my small room, but instead opted for a quick walk. The man at the reception desk didn't even look at me as I picked up the phone that was behind his desk.

"Harper," It wasn't Amanda at all. It turns out my Dad had decided to ring. I cast a sideways glance at the moody reception man.

"Hi."

"What were you thinking? How could you leave like that?"

"Well, Mum let me. She drove me here, and signed all that paperwork _crap_." I swear I could've heard my Dad struggling not to tell me off for swearing.

"Listen, your Mum wasn't really think straight. She wasn't in the right mind set to be making those kind of decisions." What did that even mean?

"I'm here now," I said. "It's all fine." _Lie_.

I could picture the disappointment plastered on his face. He'd wanted to see me off. Even if I was an apparent killer, I guess I was still his daughter after all. I shifted from foot to foot as I waited for his reply. As good as it was to hear a friendly voice again, I wish it wasn't my Dad's.

"Don't do anything like that again," As if I had a chance stuck at Mount Massive. "You understand?"

"_Yeah, yeah_. I hear you." I slammed the phone back down, and waited a few seconds. I think I wished he would ring me back and say it was all over. Sending me here was a stupid mistake and I was welcome back home again. It would all be over and this would've been a stupid dream. Like the past few months hadn't happened. But they had, and I knew that. The red stain of the fence would forever hold that against me.

"Thanks," I said quietly to the reception man. He either didn't hear me, or care enough to give me a reply. I scanned a couple of the documents doted about his messy desk. One had a certain name that rang a bell. An important bell. Waylon Park.

"Hey, uhm, I was wondering if you knew a Mr Park who works here? His first name is Waylon." The man gave me a blank stare, looking totally zoned out.

"Why should I give you that information. You're a patient, I'm not entitled to share anything with you. In fact, it's against the policies of-"

"Well, he's my Dad's brother. Part of the family." I let my eyes stare at another patient in a wheelchair by the stairs. He didn't look happy to be here either. "My Dad was on the phone just then, he said that I should be allowed to talk to him," I lied. Jeez, I hope he's as dumb as he looks.

"Oh, well, uh, I'll try and get a message to him If you'd like." Perfect.

"Yeah. Could you tell him that it'd be great to catch up some time." I said. " I mean, if he's free to drop by of course." He looked at me for a moment, maybe trying to figure out if I was lying or not.

"Sure." He sounded uninterested. "What's your name?"

"Harper. Harper Hope," I was the only female in the whole facility, and he still didn't know my name. He gave me a curt nod, and went back to typing away at his computer. I took this as my cue to leave, so I dragged my feet back down the hallway to the women's ward. The guy in the wheelchair was still there. The way he stared at me creeped me out, I'll happily admit.

He mumbled something and I shook my head. His skin looked almost melted, or as if something had eaten away at it. His hands twitched in his lap, his fingers twining with each other, and shaking violently. He kept mumbling to himself, or to me I'm not sure. His clothes seemed dirty, and his doctor was nowhere to be found. I considered telling the man at the desk, but he seemed like he was done talking to me. I tugged gently on my sleeve, and gave the man a small wave.

In all honestly, my feet couldn't carry me away fast enough.

When I reached my room, I grasped the door knob, but it was either stuck, or I'd been locked outside. Well, great. I lifted my leg, and kicked the oak door, my shoes making the sound echo around the corridor. Not like there was anybody to hear it. I decided to try my luck in the common room that I had all to myself, and my feet scuffed against the floor every time I took a step.

As it turns out, that door was locked too. I walked back past the plant I was still tempted to name Amanda, and tried my luck on any of the other rooms in the hallway, but I came back with nothing. I let my hand slip away from the door of the final room, and I was debating whether or not to go back into the reception when I heard shouting. And lot's of it.

"What the hell?" Mixed in with the shouting I could hear the steady pace of footsteps making their way to me. But then they just stopped. So did the shouting. Just like that. Maybe this place was messing with my head, like it always does in the movies. My mind was totally screwing with me.

I let my hand scrape down the side of the wall as I slid down it. I clutched my knees to my chest, and tightly wrapped my arms around them. Shit. I don't know how he found me here, but he did. I could see the white outline blurring my vision, mixed with my tears. It was always at home that he came to me; always. I was safe when I wasn't there. But he had found me, and my heavy breathing and the thumping of my heart were so loud, I swear the whole asylum could've heard me. Maybe that Waylon Park was trying to warn me?

_Billy Hope_. The name was bouncing around in my head so much, it hurt. His files were placed on my bed, purposely, so I could read them. It was no mistake that we were in the same place. Sent in to Mount Massive only months apart. We were cousins. We were close before the accident. Before his mother had died, before I had killed his best friend, before he tried to commit suicide, before we were both sent here.

The white outline was growing closer, I could feel it. The screaming and shouting was back too; louder than before. I wasn't sure if it was the patients, doctors, or both. All I really know is that I could feel a hand press into my shoulder, denting me with it's nails. I could feel a cold breath against my neck, and my skin broke beneath it's touch. The screaming was getting louder, and there was nothing I could do. The screaming was getting louder, and I felt like I was dying. The screaming was getting louder, and I knew how Rand had felt.

The screaming was getting quieter, and I felt like I was dead.

**Okay, so I've been ****_really_**** inactive, and I'm****_ really_**** sorry. Feel free to hate me, immensely. But, at least I have a chapter for you guys today. I will apologise that it's short. I really want to try and make these long as it goes on, but it's kinda challenging.**

**Anyway, thank you all for waiting, and I'd love to hear what you all think of the latest chapter!**

**The Gift of Fear**


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